


Doin' All Right

by nothingelsematters



Series: The Headcanon Save Project [10]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Headcanon Save Project, M/M, Smut, poly!Smile, prompt fills, this is an asshole!Tim free zone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-09-28 09:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20423954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingelsematters/pseuds/nothingelsematters
Summary: A collection of headcanons/prompt fills from my tumblr, all Smile-era/poly!Smile themed.





	1. Timbri and the hepatitis scare

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey hey! Here's where I'm going to upload all of my Smile era/poly!Smile prompts/headcanons from my tumblr!
> 
> Each chapter will have a different rating because some are fluffier and some are smuttier. I'll warn for kinks/triggers in each chapter.
> 
> And fair warning: some of these are REALLY short.

**[voguefleur](https://voguefleur.tumblr.com/)** asked:

_AHHHH seeing that you got the ask box open again got me so excited! i feel like i’ve been waiting forever! anyhow, hopefully this sends, but! i’m not sure if you ship brian and tim much, but how about a short drabble about tim finding out brian was ill with hepatitis? i love my angst! <3_

I am so sorry about the wait!

*

Tim was deep in songwriting thought when his phone rang, shrill and loud and unexpected in the quiet of his apartment.

“Hello?”

“Tim?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“It’s…it’s John. Deacon.” Tim recognised the voice now, quiet but…but trembling? Why did he sound on the verge of tears?

“Oh, hello, John. What’s up?”

“It’s - it’s Bri,” John rushed. “We’ve had to come home early - Tim, he’s really sick - they took him straight to the hospital - Tim, he might - I don’t know -”

Tim’s heart stopped so abruptly that it was almost painful. While he didn’t know John that well, he knew the bassist was generally considered the sensible, level-headed one…and right now his voice was breaking and shaking and if _John_ was losing it then Brian must be - must be -

“Where did they take him?”

“We’re - we’re at Royal London,” John gulped.

“I’ll be there at once,” Tim said, and hung up.

*

The cab driver was unusually sympathetic and quiet as they pulled up to the hospital. Perhaps the driver had seen enough to know that someone in a rush to a hospital with a pale face rarely meant good news.

As soon as Tim paid him he raced inside, asking breathlessly at the reception desk for Brian May. The receptionist asked, “Are you family?” and Tim didn’t know how to answer. Even if their relationship wasn’t illegal anymore, you couldn’t very well go rushing into hospitals asking to see your _boyfriend_.

Before he could get himself into a mess, though, the elevator doors opened and John rushed out. “Tim! Oh, thank god. Come with me.”

Tim could hardly look at John. The bassist was pale, his hair unkempt, his eyes reddened, and all of that pointed to something Tim would rather not think about.

“I told the others I’d come get you,” John managed to say, his voice surprisingly steady, now. “Roger didn’t want to leave his side and Freddie didn’t want to leave Roger.”

“Is it…?” Tim took a deep breath. “Is it bad?”

To his surprise, John took both his hands in his, and met his eye.

“It’s _bad_, Tim. They think he has…they think he has hepatitis. And maybe something else, with the way his arm is swelling. They think…they think…oh, god,” and John squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing his sob. Without thinking, Tim pulled him close, letting John hide his face in his shoulder for a moment. “They think…he might lose his arm.” John’s grip tightened on his shirt, and Tim could feel John’s shaking, as well as his own blood running cold.

Tim knew why John was reacting that way. Brian would never recover if he couldn’t play guitar.

He swallowed several times as the lift continued its slow climb as he tried not to think about the possibility of a life without Brian.

“So,” he said after a moment, “Roger is looking after Bri, and Freddie’s looking after Rog, but who’s looking after you, John?”

John smiled weakly.

“I’ll be fine. Bri needs the people he loves most around him.”

“Deaky, that includes you.”

John just shook his head, saying nothing, as they arrived at the floor.

“Timmy, darling!” Freddie rushed to sweep Tim into a hug. “Oh, I’m so glad you came. This way.”

Freddie ushered them into a room and Tim’s stomach turned over.

Brian was hooked up to so many tubes Tim could barely count them all. His skin was yellow and his face sunken, and his arm was grotesquely swollen and distorted. Roger was sitting in the chair next to the bed, his head bent over Brian’s good hand, his shoulders shaking.

“Rog?” Freddie murmured. “Rog, darling? Tim’s here.”

Roger’s head snapped up, and Tim felt his pain increase at the pale, washed out expression and the blue eyes swimming with tears.

“Oh - oh Tim -”

“Rog,” and Tim folded Roger into a hug, pulling the drummer tight and feeling wetness soak his shirt.

“He - he promised,” Roger whimpered. “He promised he wouldn’t - he wanted to see you.”

“I’m here,” Tim murmured. He turned and bent over the bed, pressing a kiss to Brian’s forehead. The guitarist stirred.

Vaguely, Tim was aware of the other three leaving the room, but all his focus was on Brian.

“Bri? Love?”

“Tim,” Brian sighed faintly. “You came.”

“Of course.”

“I love you, Tim.” Brian’s good hand lifted painfully off the bed and clumsily stroked Tim’s cheek. “Love you, so much.”

“Shh. It’ll be all right, Bri. You’ll be all right. I’m here to help you get better.”

Brian smiled faintly. “What if I don’t?”

“You _will_, Bri. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Tim bent and kissed Brian properly, sealing his promise. When he pulled away, Brian’s eyes were closed again, as though exhausted.

Tim settled in and held onto Brian’s good hand tightly.

He wasn’t going anywhere until Brian came home.


	2. Tim giving orders

**anonymous** asked:

_Smile era and semi poly!Smile where Tim watches Brian and Roger fuck and gives them advice on how to beat satisfy each other (this lead singer and bassist has experience fucking both of them separately)_

“Oh no, Bri. You should hook your fingers upwards. Like this,” Tim demonstrated.

Brian obediently followed suit, cheeks flushing at Roger’s loud moan in response.

“Lovely. I think you can work in a little deeper, Bri. Roger _loves_ this, don’t you, dearest?”

Roger glanced sideways to where Tim was sitting, lounging in an armchair, his legs spread, lazily palming his cock as he watched his bandmates pleasure each other on the bed.

“I think he’s ready now, Bri. Marvelously easy to open, isn’t he? But do take it slowly, he just _loves_ the torture.”

Brian gripped Roger’s hips, but just as he was about to slide in Tim changed his mind.

“Wait, no. On your back, Rog. I know Bri just adores seeing his partner’s face. I want you two to see every single thing you’re doing to each other.”

Tim gripped his cock a little more firmly as he watched them get into position and Brian’s cock disappear inside Roger. God, his bandmates were beautiful…he’d always thought so, but it had taken him months to get up the courage to suggest this night, to suggest bringing them together in this room.

“You might want to try pulling on his hair, Rog,” he said casually, and his cock twitched as Roger’s hands flew up into Brian’s curls. He knew Roger must have pulled, because Brian let out a high whine and his hips snapped forward involuntarily.

“And Bri, you might try picking up the pace a little,” he added, and _god_, if the way the two of them jumped to obey his instructions wasn’t the _hottest_ thing…

“Tim,” Roger moaned, his back arching. “Tim, get over here.”

How could he resist? He clambered over to the bed, recognising the tremors in Brian’s arms that told him he was close, the little breathless gasps that said Roger was close.

As soon as Tim was within grabbing reach, Roger pulled him down for a kiss, moaning against his mouth; after just a few moments, Tim heard Brian’s helpless cry as he came, shaking so hard that he made the bed move.

God, Brian was beautiful when he was post orgasmic. He sank down on Roger’s other size, hazel eyes blinking sluggishly, and Tim just wanted to kiss him.

But before he could act on it, Roger whined below him; he hadn’t come yet.

“Tim…please…”

He’d thought he would only watch, but how was he to resist such an impassioned plea?

Sliding into Roger was easy, leftover lube and come easing the way and short-circuiting Tim’s brain at the idea that he was essentially fucking Brian’s come into Roger.

“Bri,” he managed to say, knowing he wouldn’t last, “jerk him.”

It took only a few strokes before Roger’s voice rose to its shatteringly high falsetto and he came hard and hot over his stomach. His body clamped down, and Tim saw stars dance behind his eyelids as he came too.

When he could breathe and think again, he managed to pull out of Roger carefully. Brian was already armed with a washcloth as he wiped them down.

He began to move away from the bed, to grab his clothes from the floor and start dressing, but then Roger mumbled something incoherent and pulled him down. Right, he remembered belatedly. Roger liked a snuggle. He let himself pull Roger close, stroking his chest, and was startled when a warm weight fell against his back. Then a long arm looped around them, and Tim realised he was the meat in a Roger and Brian sandwich.

This wasn’t what he planned. He could clearly see the feelings blossoming between Brian and Roger and encouraged it all he could. But if he let himself get caught up in snuggles and things, then he was likely to catch feelings too, and that just would never work.

He’d get up in a moment. He would. Just a few more minutes…

His last conscious thought was that he was quite content like this, before sleep carried him away.


End file.
